


monarch of beasts

by devils_pitstop



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Discussed Murder, Double Anal Penetration, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, M/M, Mindbreak, Non-Consensual Bondage, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Tentacle Rape, ardynoct
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devils_pitstop/pseuds/devils_pitstop
Summary: With Insomnia destroyed, and Noctis captured, the Empire wants to enjoy their spoils of war. Food and live entertainment, with Noctis placed on the main stage for them to enjoy. And meanwhile, Ardyn schemed...Mind the tags! Just so you know exactly what you're heading in for, brief chapter summaries right here:-1st chapter is Empire mob x Noctis, with a side of Scourge tentacles and strong Ardynoct undertone (but not quite there yet until the next chapter)-2nd chapter: The Scourge laid eggs in Noctis and Ardyn fucks him to inseminate them, then watches him deliver the clutch.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the nastiness, I have much more planned. If you see any tags that I should add, please drop a comment to let me know!

The throne room had been cleared, not cleaned. Most of the rubble had been carted away, but dust seemed to have settled in every crook and cranny. The fearful Citadel workers who had not managed to evacuate or the MTs that had come along on the Empire invasion – neither made for very good janitorial staff. It was okay though. Ardyn doubted a few motes of dust could ruin Iedolas’ day. 

The Nilfheim Emperor had originally wanted the bodies of the Lucian dead displayed in the throne room to gloat over. As if what they were about to do wasn’t gloating enough. It would have been another testimony to how truly far gone he was, how lost to the dark, so Ardyn didn’t discourage the idea, but somehow Besithia talked him out of it. It was a little of a surprise, as Ardyn never expected Besithia to be a paragon of sense and virtues, but apparently the scientist’s fickle mind could still surprise Ardyn. 

Iedolas settled to use the long table where the truce was supposed to be signed as their dining table, decking it in as much red and gold tapestry as they’d brought, covering the stark austere Lucian design with typical Empire opulence. Even the silverware was brought out from Nilfheim, and though amusing, Ardyn could only watch MT axemen place tiny dessert forks and attempt to fold napkins for so long before it became boring.

Ardyn’s part of the preparation was much, much more fun anyway. 

A few of Iedolas’ generals didn’t have the guts to turn up. Ravus, of course, they’d all expected to excuse himself, and Iedolas let him off easy – Ardyn supposed only so he could throw the fact in Ravus’ face later. But Aranea Highwind just plain didn’t show up, and Ardyn was pretty sure Iedolas wouldn’t dare to do anything about it – the Emperor needed the Dragoons too much to risk antagonizing their commander. Iedolas simply pulled in more people from the ranks to fill in the empty places at the dining table, and the rabbles were only too pleased to be there. 

They hadn’t expected this complete a victory. They knew Regis had sent his son away hoping he would escape the attack. They’d lost the Oracle in the chaos, but in return, the prodigal Crown Prince had driven practically into their arms. Right now, he must be regretting choices made while he was wild and out of his mind with grief, especially since his whole retinue had been caught with him. The only consolation for Noctis was that he would be the one to bear the brunt of Ardyn’s punishment – or so Ardyn let him believe. 

“Are you ready?” Iedolas asked. The Emperor was decked out in his best finery, dripping with oxblood velvet and decked in so much gold that he jingled when he moved. He was looking better than he usually did, the fever of triumph giving him some vitality over what he’d lost to the Scourge and old age. 

“Oh, I’m always ready, Your Excellency,” Ardyn returned smoothly. He got up and took his time straightening out his scarves and tugging on his vests, relishing in the expectant looks of the dinner guests glued on him. No reason not to take a little enjoyment in his work, and Ardyn had always liked to be the center of attention, the more dramatic the better. And then, right on cue, he lifted his hand and tugged on the invisible string that tied him to their guest – the most important of them all.

The heavy double doors behind the throne room flew open. Under the cascade of light, Noctis stood, stark naked but for a few adornments that Ardyn had put on himself. The lack of decoration only heightened how perfect he was. Ardyn had ordered an attendant to scrub him down to get rid of all the grime and dirt from his aborted road trip and the soot from the burning city. Now his skin was flawless and shining like a marble sculpture, creamy and smooth enough to tempt any man to leave their grubby finger marks on it. 

Ardyn crooked a finger and Noctis took a step forward. The boy knew his role well, Ardyn would give him that. When he’d first been… detained, he struggled and fought like a wildcat, even after they’d gotten the power jammer collar on him. But Ardyn had only needed to tell him what his cooperation would spare his friends – his _brothers_ , as Regis had so well put it – and Noctis had seen sense and stopped resisting immediately.

Ardyn, well, Ardyn had strong feelings about _brothers_. If only his own brother had been so ready to sacrifice himself for him. 

The collar was still clamped around Noctis’ neck – couldn’t risk him warping away from the fun. It was thick and sturdy, the dark material contrasting sharply with the white, fragile skin of his neck. By now Ardyn knew well the veins underneath, pumping frantically, the way the boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. His face was bleached of colors and his lips looked bloodless, but his cheeks were almost fever-red. His eyes were impossibly blue in the stark light, though they darkened as his pupils dilated, taking in the scene in front of him. Now there was some feelings on his face – proof of spirit yet unbroken – as Ardyn could see first outrage, and then, inevitably, deliciously, fear of what was about to happen to him. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ardyn said lazily, crooking his finger again. Noctis jerked as if Ardyn had touched him physically, and his eyes, when he turned them to Ardyn, were full of hate. That didn’t stop him from obeying, and he walked over with hesitant jerking steps, bare feet making no noise as he walked down the thick red carpet and over to the chair that they’d left for him at the very head of the table.

“The place of honor,” Ardyn said, making a sweeping gesture, even if what awaited Noctis was the opposite of honor. Noctis threw him a disgusted look, looking like he was fighting physically to keep from throwing up. “Come now. I have to make sure everyone has a good view, don’t I?”

Sure enough, the men at the table were all staring at Noctis hungrily. Iedolas looked intent, smug; Glauca somehow looked bored under the armor that he still wore, and Besithia looked pretty much like he was observing one of his experiments. The rest of them, the likes of Caligo Ullgo, were all lecherous grins and lewd expressions. Ardyn knew they would be wolf whistling and be generally much more raucous if not for the eminent presence of their betters – those who would throw them through the grinder for being rowdy.

“Sit down,” Ardyn said, feeling a little bit of temper flare in him. It was a little of a waste that Noctis’ sacrifice would be displayed in front of such a vulgar audience. He grabbed Noctis’ shoulder and flung the boy into the chair, earning a barely bit back grunt of surprise and pain. Noctis glared at Ardyn, and Ardyn smiled knowing he had what he wanted - Noctis’ attention all on him, Noctis knowing fully despite all these men present it would be Ardyn who’d take him.

Ardyn basked in Noctis’ hate, and it was easy as breathing to reach into himself and call on the Scourge. It seeped out from under his skin, crawled tar-thick over to the chair, and grabbed hold of the marble and Noctis himself, making its way up. Noctis’ first reaction was disgust, and then it bloomed into full blown fear as the Scourge kept crawling up, blossoming ink-black against his skin, and fastened him to the chair.

Who needed shackles when you have command of the Scourge? Marvelous stuff, really. Ardyn could taste the sweat from Noctis’ skin, the fear and panic, as the thick oil-like tentacles wrapped around his ankles and knees, pulling his legs close together, then around his wrists, clasping them to the arm rests. A thick strand slithered around the collar, securing it tightly against the backrest– forcing Noctis to sit up straight lest he get strangled by the collar, putting his entire lovely body on display. More darkness crawled up the side of his face, and though it was a shame to cover up his eyes, Ardyn liked the idea of him helpless and not knowing what was being done to him. Last but not least, a tentacle of darkness slithered down his throat, and Ardyn watched in satisfaction as Noctis’ throat worked around the thickness, the muffled grunts coming out of him distinctively pained.

But this was only the start. 

Around him, the air was filled with the sound of food carts, the clinks of silverware and the terrified silence of the waiting staff. The servants of the Citadel, forced back into their liveries, here to serve their invaders and witness the defilement of their beloved prince. The amuse-bouche was being placed onto their fine china plates, tiny hors-d’oeuvre to whet the dining guests’ appetite, and Ardyn supposed he could also accompany that with an amuse-bouche of his own. 

Leaning against the side of Noctis’ chair, he crooked his finger just slightly, sending slender tendrils of Scourge up his body. A few teases with the tip of the tentacles and his nipples were becoming hard pebbles, standing tall enough that the appendages could wrap around them, tightening more effectively than any clamp. As they began to tug and twist, another tentacle wrapped itself around Noctis’ cock. Ardyn could see the boy’s throat work, feel his muffled protest, taste the drool that lazily dripped down the side of the strand of Scourge inside his mouth, making it glisten and shine even as his lips went dry. A few strokes and his cock was standing at full attention – and now the colors on Noctis’ cheeks spread further with humiliation and shame. He made a choked, enraged noise of helplessness as the tentacle wrapped tight at the base of his cock, squeezing hard under his balls, while it continued to caress and pump around his length, giving him the stimulation but cutting off the means of release. 

As the men ate, exchanging lewd remarks between themselves, Ardyn leaned in to whisper in Noctis’ ear. “You should see the way these men are looking at you, Noct,” he hummed. “Oh, wait, you don’t have to. You have me to tell you exactly how. You look exquisite, my boy, so primed for pleasure, so lost to it. They are salivating over you, but they don’t know how completely you belong to me.” 

As the amuse-bouche was cleared away, it was time for another, more substantial starter. Ardyn supposed he could move onto the next stage of entertainment. With a little flair, he conjured up yet another scourge tentacle, this one half liquid, dripping with a greasy, oil like substance. It wagged around in the air, as if greeting its audience, making sure nobody could miss its purpose. Then it ducked away between Noctis’ legs, curving its way under his crotch, finding his tight entrance, and working its way inside. 

Noctis started shaking in a way he hadn’t done when it had been only his cock and nipples getting the stimulations. He was tugging at his bonds now, shaking his head from side to side, as if that would stop the tentacle from working its way ever deeper. Once it was comfortably seated, it started inflating, pumping and pulsing inside of him to work him open. “You’ll be glad for this, I promise,” Ardyn whispered again, only for Noctis’ ears. “I can already tell you, those men won’t be as patient with you as I am right now.”

As Ardyn had predicted, the men were bored of the display by the time the first course was served. 

“Hey, Chancellor,” Caligo spoke up, holding up a wine glass towards Ardyn in a toast. Ardyn smiled at him – By the grace of the Gods, but the man was _ugly_. “This is very nice and all, but from here it looks like he’s just sitting there chilling. Why not give the rest of us down here a better view? Make him work for it a little?”

“Why, commander,” Ardyn replied smoothly. It was the plus side of being infected by Scourge, he had many voices to speak with and it was easy to reach in for one that didn’t sound completely exasperated by Caligo and his big nose. “That’s exactly what I had in mind.”

He raised a hand, teasing the air with his fingers. It was easy to imagine like he was playing an instrument – even if he’d never been good with any. What responded to him was the Scourge, as it started to split, expand and writhe, moving as one creature to rearrange Noctis up on his chair. The thick tentacle that had been holding his legs together now split in two, looping around his calves and ankles to pull his legs open almost obscenely wide, and they kept pulling back until Noctis’ knees were nearly behind his ears. Ardyn sensed it when his muscles protested and stopped at just the point where it would be uncomfortable but not too painful. And really, he had to admire the boy’s flexibility – Ardyn had known he had trained like a gymnast, but to see what his body was capable of was a treat. 

There was even more to work with, though. The tentacles that had been shackling Noctis to the arm rests now cinched his arms together from elbow to wrist, hiking them over his head so that nothing remained in the way from them admiring his body. The one around his collar pulled tighter, and Noctis let out a choked sound as he fought frantically for the scant supply of air he was allowed. The heaving of his chest was delicious, as it left the flat smooth plane of his stomach with its scattering of soft hair all sucked in – all the better to display the outline of the tentacle sunk deep inside him, pulsing and writhing and pumping away. 

With him tilted so far back, the center of the attention was Noctis’ entrance - stretched to its very limit, a smooth pink hole clinging to the girth of the tentacle that was pumping lazily in and out of him. But no one else could feel like Ardyn could feel how full the tentacle was making Noctis, how it was exercising pressure evenly on his inside and not enough on that sweet spot of his, that spot that Ardyn had grazed so often but not enough. The grip around his neck never slackened, and neither did the one around his taut, straining cock, his balls full to bursting but not allowing any release, the tentacles working precum up and down his length, making it even shinier. His nipples looked hard enough to cut glass, and Ardyn felt almost as good as if he was pressing the pad of his fingers to them himself, as the thin tendrils of Scourge flicked at them mercilessly. While the skin near the tentacles was bleached of color, the tips of his nipples were two pin-pricks of cherry red, looking almost like they would start bleeding. 

When Ardyn had the tentacle thrust deeper into his throat, depriving him of air from both inside and outside, he tasted for the first time the tears of rage and humiliation, and he knew for a fact that Noctis had still so much more to give him. 

*

The boy made for a delightful live statue through the dinner, getting both his throat and ass fucked slowly but relentlessly through several decadent courses, and then desserts, coffee and liquor. Ardyn didn’t eat, he didn’t need to. He dined luxuriantly on his tears, on bitter precum that was coaxed out of him even as he screamed silently at his body to stop leaking, on how full to bursting he felt, both at his abused hole and throat, and at his cock and balls which were still straining hard against the tentacles that restrained them. 

When the last of the dinner was cleared away and Ardyn released him, he spilled to the floor in a graceless heap. Some of the men at the table got up to witness the moment the tentacle pulled out of him, leaving his hole slick and gaping. The glee in their eyes were cruel as Noctis pressed a hand to his collared throat and coughed, his throat working now that it was finally free from the intrusion. Ardyn could still feel him, though. After being in contact with him for so long, he _owned_ him. Every part of Noctis felt like a livewire, his body betraying him, making him squirm when his now free cock bobbed against his thigh, twitch when his abused nipples pressed against the floor.

His blue eyes, now free from the blindfold, were shiny with unshed tears, filled with hatred and fear. _Take a good look_ , Ardyn wanted to tell him. _Take a good look at the men who would have you._

“Time for you to eat,” Ardyn cooed, and the table burst into raucous laughter. He gestured towards Iedolas, who sat smug as a bloated toad, leaning against the bag of his seat with his arms majestically on the arm rests. “Go now, Noctis. _Crawl_.” 

With a shaky hand, Noctis wiped at the corner of his mouth. Cleaning himself up the best as he could from the drool, trying to regain some dignity. Ardyn would love the moment when he finally broke him. He probably didn’t even know it, how sexual it looked when he licked his lips, perhaps only steeling himself – but it looked very differently to his audience. And then, stiffly, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, and as Ardyn had ordered, he crawled on the floor, passing under the table like a dog begging for scraps, until he emerged right in front of Iedolas, looking up at the old man’s face. 

“Take it out, Noctis,” Ardyn said. There was something so powerful in watching Noctis balancing himself on his knees, fumbling with Iedolas’ trousers with shaky hands, pulling out his withered dick and sat staring at it. If he was unimpressed Ardyn wouldn’t blame him; it looked about as dried up as an overripe banana and just as appetizing. While all of the men at the table were already sporting hard-ons, Iedolas was still flaccid, a fact that the Emperor didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about. After all, who else was going to bring it up to his face? He was the Emperor of Nilfheilm. 

“Well, look like His Excellency isn’t very impressed with you so far, princeling,” Caligo sneered. From where he sat, he could reach out with a foot, pressing with the tip of his shoe at Noctis’ hard cock, earning a wordless wince. Eyes bright with cruelty, the man moved on to Noctis’ ass next, nudging the hole open a little more to the cheers of the table. “Come now. Beg for his attention. Suck it like the little whore you are.” 

The only reaction that brought out of him was a look out of the corner of the eye, a look that Caligo missed as he guffawed and leaned his head back to drain his wine glass. It was a look that promised Caligo’s throat would be laid open like one of those dissected specimens in Besithia’s lab, and since it was wasted on the oaf, Ardyn savored it, the edge and coldness of the hatred. 

Bolstered now with hate, Noctis leaned forwards, his ass on display for all to see, hole gaping, waiting to be filled, cock bouncing against the front of his thighs. He took the entirety of Idolas’ cock in his mouth at once, his throat now used to the intrusion and offering no resistance at the greedy gulps. Soon he worked up a steady pace, bobbing his heads and hollowing out his cheeks, sucking and swallowing steadily around the length. Ardyn watched Noctis’ throat worked and knew he was only going as hard to get this soon over with, and kind of regretted having given him the means to do so. Indeed, sucking a cock like this was far too easy, a luxury compared to what he had already gone through. With the Scourge filling his throat to the very bottom Noctis hadn’t even had a chance to swallow, not offered even the small decency to tidy himself up, only able to drool over himself like an animal. The men at the table, unable to appreciate the subtle difference, were satisfied throwing out lewd encouragements to what they only saw as enthusiasm. When it was Ardyn’s turn to have Noctis, he would not make that mistake so easily. 

It was not for lack of trying, but it seemed ages after Noctis worked on Iedolas’ dick. When he pulled back, breathing hard with a string of saliva between his lips and the tip, it was still as flaccid as when he’d started. The men had grown bored, only throwing out the odd taunts. Iedolas, exasperated, silenced them with a gesture of his hand, and looked to Ardyn. Of course. Ardyn got up and, bowing at the waist with a slow flourish of the hand, sent a thread of darkness soaring over the air towards them. Noctis flinched when he saw it, but this time the Scourge wasn’t meant for him, at least not directly. The Scourge sheathed itself around Iedolas’ wrinkled soft excuse of a dick, stiffening and thickening it, propping it up so it stood gleaming in the lamplight, still shiny like it had been worked by Noctis’ spit all this time.

In the end, Ardyn would still get Noctis first.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Iedolas spoke, his voice hoarse and gravely. Excited, no doubt, to be able to have a semblance of a hard on after all this time. Time truly was the greatest humiliation to mankind. He gestured towards his lap, and Noctis stood, following his instructions with a steely face but trembling knees. “Sit. No, face the company, boy.” Noctis straddled the Emperor’s lap awkwardly, hands gripping the edge of the table for balance. He kept his eyes downcast, not looking at them, until Iedolas seized the back of his collar and forced his head up. “I said, _face_ them. Where are your manners? Have you forgotten how to entertain your guests?” That got a chorus of laughter, and Noctis bit on his lip until it was white, but he raised his head and faced them. “Good. Now put your hole to good use.”

He was already lined up, and Noctis only had to lower his hips to get his cock slotted in. It was easy, far too easy. Ardyn could feel how much slack there was, and he held Noctis’ gaze as he smirked and crooked a finger. The Scourge thickened to fill in the blank. Noctis was doing his best to keep his face impassive, Ardyn knew, which only made it more satisfying to watch his expression twist in pain. He could look down now at himself now and see at the bulge that the cock had made against his belly, measure for himself the depth of the violation. 

“Good boy,” Iedolas said. Ardyn could feel him dip the tips of his thumbs past the rim, and the soft noise Noctis made at just that much extra stretch. The rest of Iedolas’ fingers were already claws – his transformation into daemon nearly complete despite his still mostly human form – digging into the white skin at Noctis’ hips, drawing the first blood. He would be the only one allowed to make Noctis bleed this night, Ardyn would make sure of it. “Now move. Show your obedience to me, to the Empire – show them exactly how much of a little whore you are for Nilfheim.” 

Noctis’ hands were gripping onto the edge of the table so tight the joints seemed to bend at unnatural angles, his knuckles white. In wordless defiance he started to move his hips, pulling himself up and pushing back down. The noise that he let escape when he sank down showed exactly how much he didn’t expect the sensation, how different this was compared when it had been only the tentacle inside him, spreading him. Ardyn crooked his finger, and the Scourge sheathing Iedolas’ cock shifted ever so slightly, molding itself against Noctis’ body until it curved towards his prostate. When he pulled himself up and lowered down again, the tip _pressed_ against the sweet spot, and Noctis couldn’t keep quiet this time, the sound that he made was definitely a moan for all that it sounded punched out of him. 

Noctis glared, but even that much defiance was pale considering how debauched he looked. The blush had spread all the way to his shoulders, and the lighting was doing a very good job drawing attention to it. His cock was bobbing hard with each of his movement – adding just that much stimulation to already stretched thin nerves. His lips were parted with the effort to move himself; his ragged breathing drew more attention to how red and spit-slicked his lips were, drool marks still messy down the corners of his mouth. With each thrust now Noctis let out a whimper, the incoherent noises of a hurt animal, and all of a sudden it spiked into a louder, helpless cry as his cock twitched and he came messily, spilling himself all over his front and over the table. 

The table exploded in cheers as Noctis froze and stared, his face turning from red to ashen white, then red again. The evidence was just there, painted on his skin, spread in front of him, giving him not even a moment of denial over what he had just done. As if he’d needed that spelled out for him, Caligo whistled. “Look at that! Nobody even _touched_ you and you’re already bursting to cum. You really are enjoying this, you dirty little slut!” His men weren’t far behind as they picked up the chorus of jeers, describing in graphic details what else Noctis might like done to his hole. Ardyn had to admire the creativity of some of those. 

Iedolas didn’t give him long to ponder this, though. Noctis cried out when the old men dug his nails into him again, his thumbs stretching his hole around the girth of the Scourge-sheathed cock, pushing his limits. “I haven’t said you could stop, boy,” Iedolas grunted. There was _something_ in that wizened old man’s voice, something like a stir of actual interest. “Are all of Lucis this ill-mannered as to satisfy yourself and leave a guest hanging? Finish what you’ve started. You’re not to stop until I say so.”

Shakily, Noctis picked himself back up. He braced his hands on the table again – slipping a little in the mess of cum and didn’t dare to do anything about it, didn’t dare to make a spare gesture to draw attention to the evidence of his lecherousness, plain on the marble for all to see. Instead, he just gripped harder, and when he pulled his hips up for another thrust, the noise that escaped him was a sob. 

Ardyn didn’t keep track of how long it went on. It was exquisite to watch as Noctis’ shame and despair grew, as his body seemed unable to stop the sparks of pleasure that continued to come from having the Scourge-reinforced cock slammed against his bruised prostate. His hips started making wild twitching, rolling movements – probably his instincts trying to get himself away from the source of the stimulation, even as he continued to force himself towards it, and accidentally courting even more sensations. His cock was already half hard again, which the men didn’t waste any time in pointing out.

It just went on and on. Iedolas let out the little odd grunts, but even the Scourge couldn’t bring his bodily functions back to its peak. In a way, Ardyn could keep this going forever. Iedolas felt no physical strain, and the Scourge-cock could be stiff for as long as Ardyn cared to make it. He could make it go on for a long time, feeding on the torturous pleasure that each movement was forcing like electric currents from the Crown Prince’s body. Noctis was crying now, big wracking sobs each time he dropped himself down and great heaves of inhalation like a drowning man in the effort to pick himself up and try again. Sweat was matting his hair into spiky tips, and big fat drops were rolling down, leaving shiny tracks on his face along with the tears. He was trembling and twitching, and it took an enormous effort of will to keep doing this to himself, to be the instrument of his own torture. 

Even the men at the table grew tired, bored of the tedious display. And then a miracle happened. Ardyn wasn’t sure what set Iedolas off. Perhaps it was the triumph of power finally traveling from his brain to his cock, or the tightening spasms of Noctis’ body as the boy brought himself over and over to the brink. Perhaps it was the sight of droplets of blood traveling down the curve of the narrow waist that even Iedolas’ wizened hands could encircle so easily, or maybe the old man had started to sync up with the Scourge and could feel exactly how deep he was inside Noctis’ body, the tip pounding against the same spot of his inner walls. Perhaps it was the sight of the great scar from the Marilith attack, a wound that could mark Noctis as the Empire’s forever, and the sight of those sharp shoulder blades, straining each time Noctis leaned on his arms for another thrust, moving up and down like fragile wings. There was so much to admire, and it was one of all of these things that stirred life into Iedolas’ withering member. Ardyn could feel the spark of interest, and he encouraged it – and that was when Iedolas grunted and spilled his seed inside of Noctis. 

Could the boy feel it? Ardyn didn’t think so, the constant stimulation so far must have made him numb. Still, he could probably feel the thick cum as it overspilled, running down his thighs, making him sticky. He didn’t stop though – obedient to the last, and in the end it was Iedolas that shoved him off. The cock was pulled out of him in one single squelching movement, and Noctis let out a scream as if his insides were coming out with it. He barely had time to catch himself against the table and slowly crumpled to the floor, leaking cum from his hole as he lay there and sobbed, his own cock now fully hard and pressed painfully against the smooth marble tiles, trapped under his body. 

“Spare me your ceaseless whining,” Iedolas grunted. Ardyn lazily gestured and the Scourge retreated – carrying with it his spoils, which Ardyn would surely put to good use. Iedolas righted himself and got up with uncharacteristic vigor and fluidity, as if he’d been temporarily revived from his usual arthritic old man self. He made an imperious, benevolent gesture over Noctis’ crumpled form – an invitation for the assembly to help themselves, before he turned and left with a dramatic furl and swish of his robes. 

Noctis looked, against all odds, surprised, when Glauca pulled him up on his feet. The poor boy, did he think that they were done with him? Did he ever entertain for a moment that they might have mercy? His eyes widened as he was held aloft by the collar, hissing like a strangled cat, legs swinging and hands scratching uselessly at the gauntleted arm that held him up. Glauca didn’t even notice. With a mighty sweep of his arms, he cleared the table in front of him of any remains of the dinner. Crystal wine glasses shattered with chimes like bells, and the tiny dessert forks and spoons added to the concert, almost drowning out the now desperate wheezing that Noctis was making.

Glauca slammed him down on the table, knocking the breath out of him – if there had been any left. Ardyn would have scolded him for damaging the goods, except the force of the blow had been perfectly controlled, and Ardyn did enjoy the little noise that forced out of Noctis – a broken little gasp that still somehow held onto a little bit of surprise, like he still didn’t believe this was happening. His eyes were glazed over from the brief air deprivation, but they sure did snap back to attention as Glauca raised his other hand, hooked his fingers under the hem of his helmet, and pulled it off.

The reaction was immediate. 

“You!” Noctis screamed. In different circumstances, it might have been a perfectly human thing to say, even screamed, full of rage but still coherent. Right now though, after all that he’d gone through – and Ardyn wasn’t just talking about the physical abuse that his throat just got – the screech that came out was eerie, like the sound of fabric tearing, like something from inside Noctis that was being ripped apart. “No, no, no! It’s not possible! It can’t be—You couldn’t have done this— _You_!” 

It was easy for Glauca – formerly Captain Titus Drautos of the Kingsglaives, one of King Regis’ most trusted officers – to hold Noctis down with one hand even as the boy struggled with all his might against him. Noctis’ hands could barely reach Drautos’ face, but he tried to scratch with fingers like claws regardless, which only seemed to amuse Drautos more. Ardyn could see Noctis’ teeth gritted with effort, the outline of his body went blurry in a blue shimmer as the boy tried to warp, tried to force himself out against the power of the collar, and immediately got punished for it. He made an aborted noise, not unlike a kicked puppy, as his body jerked once, stiffened, then went limp all at once, dropping back onto the table and now all he could manage was great, gulping, soundless sobs. 

“The powers of the Old Kings can’t help you now, can they, boy?” Drautos whispered as he pushed Noctis further back on the table. He pulled his hips up so high he was folding Noctis in half, his ass held aloft, his legs sprawling open. “Yeah, I thought so. Didn’t seem to do your old father any good, either.”

It seemed to have the same effect as a shot of adrenaline, Noctis limp one moment and then struggling, scratching and screaming the next. Ardyn wondered if they’d broken his mind so fast, as the boy seemed to have lost the capacity of words. The screams that escaped him now were only animal noises. But of course, it’d been about his father. Boys were sensitive about their fathers, weren’t they? He even got in a kick to Drautos’ chin, which made the General growl. The man shot Besithia an exasperated look, and the scientist snorted. 

His gesture was a pale imitation of Ardyn’s summoning of the Scourge, but the result was just as material: metal tentacles shooting out from under Besithia’s robes, looping around Noctis’ knees, ankles and wrists, securing them, digging into the marble table top to keep him bolted there. Noctis struggled against his bonds, but he quickly realized that it was useless. When he stilled, tears of impotent rage ran down the side of his face and he shook his head as if trying to chase away a dream. “No. No. He trusted you. He _trusted you_.”

It was picture perfect to Ardyn. Noctis was held up like an offering, a vessel ready to receive the torment that the man who had betrayed his father was about to pour into him. His arms were tied together above his head, secured into the table, and his hands kept flexing close and open, useless and helpless like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings. His lower body was held aloft, most of his weight bore by the back of his neck, which must be suffering being ground into the hard marble, and by his shoulders, which meant his arms must be screaming in their sockets. Not to mention the awkward fold of his body meant that the collar was digging painfully into his chest, which had him struggling for breath even more than he had already. His legs were held wide open at the knees, the ankles secured onto the table top with metal, and he could not even begin to move them, to close his knees to cover up the mess of cum on his body – his own and Iedolas’, lazily leaking from his hole and traveling down his skin. 

“Good for him.” Drautos growled. “As for me, the only trust I place is in my hatred.” There were the sounds of metal clanking against each other as Drautos moved his armor out of the way and pulled out his cock, stroking it to full hardness. Only a glance at his face told Ardyn that this man would not call on the Scourge for anything. He would make sure to show Noctis his contempt with his own body – and his body alone. He was tall enough that he lined up easily against Noctis even at that angle, and he shoved all of him inside Noctis in a single brutal movement. His eyes gleamed when Noctis screamed – and Noctis must have caught that too, because he clamped his mouth shut so hard they could hear his teeth click. The only defiance he had was impassivity, and he turned his head to the side, willing himself to think of something else, to be somewhere else, as he left the shell of his body for Drautos to do with as he would.

Of course, Drautos wasn’t the kind of man to let it fly. 

“Verstael?” He said again. Besithia looked up at him with mild interest, as if they were discussing some improvements they could make to the MTs. “The prince is forgetting his manners. Please remind him it’s very rude to look away from people as they talk to him.” The smile widened, baring teeth. “I want to look him in the eyes as I tell him how I killed his father—while I fuck him.” That got a ‘mm, yes, quite’ noise out of Besithia, and he was already sending a metal tentacle forward when Drautos added, “And while you’re at it can you make sure he holds his tongue? All that accusation and whining about how unfair life is, it ruins the mood.”

Besithia tapped his fingers on the table, and more slender metal tentacles drifted out from the folds of his robes. Four of them curled into Noctis’ mouth, forming a perfect spider gag, holding his mouth open, going so far as forcing his tongue out in a lewd display, taking Drautos’ instructions very literally. Two other thicker tentacles held him down at the forehead and chin, and now there was no way he could look away, no matter how hard he tried. 

“Keep your eyes open, too,” Besithia advised boredly. “Or I will keep them open for you. I’ve tried them with the clones, you wouldn’t want to hear the racket they make.” He sat back, folding his arms over his stomach, his fingers steeped serenely. “Or I could do it to one of your friends. Some Royal retinue. One of them is a Nilf, isn’t he?” He looked to Noctis, to the protest that he could easily read in his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know what bargain you struck with the Chancellor, but every Nilf by default belongs to us. I can take him back easily, fair and square. Not very useful, is he, I can tell from the reports. But a warm body is a warm body, and we can put it to good use.” He held Noctis’ eyes for a moment. “As you well know.” 

“A Nilf in his retinue,” Drautos barked out a laugh. He was pushing into Noctis unceremoniously. There was no build-up at all; he started with a punishing pace and he kept it up. But then again, Ardyn supposed he’d had all the time since the start of the dinner to work on his hate, to fantasize about the satisfaction. Even now as he fucked Iedolas’ cum from inside Noctis, it was as if he wanted to remove all the hurt that’d already been done to the boy, if only so he could fill in the blank with his own infliction. All his energy was poured into working his hate as artfully as his sword. Each movement was designed to hurt; even the pleasure he teased out of Noctis’ body was only so the cut would go deeper. Noctis was helpless against his grip, and it seemed like with each push he was bent back even more, which was nearly impossible. And yet Drautos never once lost control, never once overstepped his bounds. “His family just loves picking up strays. Just thinks that everyone is bound to worship the name Lucis Caelum, even the ones they’d treated like trash, trodden on for years.” 

“Man, back of a bit, won’t you?” One of the men from the table, unimpressed by the monologue, complained. “I can’t see shit with you hovering over him like that.”

Drautos’ head snapped up and Ardyn – well, Ardyn was proud of the venom in his eyes. If looks could kill and all that. The speaker shrank in his seat (as did his boner, probably, just withered from terror.) “You will have your turn later,” Drautos bit out each word clearly, and if Noctis had had any doubt about his fate, these words were the last nails in the coffin. “Interrupt again, and I will have your entrails over this table.” 

A beat of silence to make sure his advice was heard. Then Drautos returned his attention to the object of his revenge. He bent over Noctis to look closely in his face – white, stricken, terrified, streaked with tears. His armor dug into Noctis’ skin as he pressed down, pinning the boy hopelessly to the table. “Think about it, Noctis. The Glaives that you trained with. The Glaives that surrounded your father. They hated him, as they hate you, and they were only too happy when I ran him through, back to front.” 

With the gag in his mouth, the noise that Noctis made was a terrible keen, coming from the depth of his chest. It was as if all of him was an open wound and the noise was the sound of air being sucked through the opening. That got a slow smile out of Drautos, and, still keeping up with his thrusts, he reached a gauntleted hand between them, grabbed hold of Noctis’ cock, stroking him. The pain from the metal plates moving over his sensitive skin made Noctis flinch, even if he didn’t have much room to. Ardyn could see his fingers tense, reaching for some means of release in the aether. His toes curled, and his whole body was piece of rigid resistance, fighting off the pleasure that somehow Drautos was conjuring up in him. His breathing was more ragged and Ardyn realized with a slow satisfaction that spread like warmth from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers that Noctis must be nearing yet another orgasm. Drautos must know it too, and he adjusted the angle of his hips, fucking Noctis deeper, slower, each deliberate thrust aiming for his prostate until Noctis arched against his bonds and, with an awful sucked in breath, came. 

The table applauded. And okay, maybe Ardyn gave in and clapped his hands too. Just a bit. 

“What a slut you are,” Drautos crooned, his voice hoarse as he picked up the pace once more. With the over stimulations, Noctis’ body was clutching hard desperately around his cock, and Ardyn could see Drautos shiver with pleasure at the tight spasms. Noctis tugged against his metal shackles hard enough that Ardyn had to ready himself to step in, in case the boy might break his own bones – but it didn’t happen. “You love it, don’t you? Perhaps you would love to hear it, too, that your father died just as he always lived – as a battery for that useless shield of his. Perhaps you would love to know that the Ring that meant so much to you – I pulled it off of his finger. After I’d cut them from his living body.”

Ardyn had no doubt at all that it was the chasm of pain that had opened in Noctis’ eyes that finally let Drautos achieve his release. He marveled at how completely a man could be corrupted by hatred and revenge. He watched Drautos’ face in its parody of pleasure as he pumped his seed inside Noctis’ body, and he wondered if he could ever break Noctis so completely he would find as much joy in revenge as this man did. 

Drautos pulled back when he had filled Noctis to the brim and the boy was too paralyzed with pain to give any more. He left Noctis like that for a moment, displayed for the dinner guests to admire the cum leaking out of him, the spatter of his own cum now running down his chest, to his neck, some even into his open mouth, the drool and tears mixing together covering his face. When Drautos finished dressing himself, Besithia also stood, and with his tentacles retracted Noctis just dropped heavily onto the table, sprawled obscenely like something out of pornography. “Have fun,” Drautos said to Noctis, and the boy couldn’t even manage one of his looks in return. 

* 

After the big men had had their turns, it was the turn of the beasts. 

They understood quickly enough their boundaries. One of the men moved to slap Noctis, tried to get a reaction as the boy lied catatonic on the marble slab. Ardyn had his hand severed from his wrist before the blow could land. The blood splattered one side of Noctis’ face, and the boy didn’t even twitch as the man clutched his bloodied stump and screamed. 

“Have your fun as you wish, my boys,” Ardyn said, leaning lazily back against his chair, propping his feet on the table and crossing his legs at the ankles. “But if you draw a single drop of blood, or leave a single bruise, I will end you.” He winked. “Course, his hole doesn’t count. You can bruise that as much as you like.” 

Caligo had the first turn, of course. He had Noctis bent over the table, gripping great fistful of silky black hair to keep him arch up painfully as he slammed into his ass from behind. They passed him in a circle like a party favor – making him crawl from cock to cock, having him on his back or on his hands and knees, with his face pushed down against the table, or pulling on his arms to make him face up. They’d all had special potions for… stamina, for this particular occasion, and it would take hours for it to wear off. Ardyn wondered how Noctis would react if he had known that much. 

Eventually they were too impatient to wait their turns, and they started going at it two at a time. Noctis spit roasted between two of them, a cock in his throat and another in his ass. Fingers digging into his hair as they pulled him down as far as they could, until the tips of their cocks were hitting the back of his throat, his nose buried into their pubic hair. They held him there, waiting for his vision to grow blurry and fuzzy, waiting for his throat to tighten in panic – and they pulled him off and did it all again. Fingers digging into his ass as they used the grip to move him back and forth, deepening each stroke, teasing at his hole and fingering the rim, pulling it open so that cum oozed out. They didn’t allow him to use his hands, of course – that would be too easy, and they didn’t want to waste their energy on that. Just waiting their turns to fill his holes, to have the looseness of his ass made up by the tightening spasms of his muscles in overstimulation. And of course, when Noctis spilled himself once again from their doing, they didn’t waste any time to humiliate him for that, painting the cum in streaks across his face like a mark of shame. 

At one point, Noctis blacked out, his endurance depleted by so many near-deaths, all his nerves on fire just begging for relief. But it didn’t really bother the men. They just continued to fuck him until he snapped awake. The one who had been fucking him when he slowly took in his surrounding, the closest to see recognition and despair in his eyes – he’d cummed at once, and hard. 

Then just for fun, they tried to go at it two at a time. Using the same hole. Holding Noctis teetering over the edge of the table, his limbs bent at awkward angles – useless limp arms and legs that they pushed impatiently out of the way to get at the part of him they were interested in. With one man impaling him from behind, the other squeezing in from the front, they lifted and dropped him over their cocks, laughing at how easily his body seemed to accommodate the stretch. The position allowed them many more games, too. They had him play with himself, his nipples, his cock. They had him beg for their cocks, beg to be fucked, say all sorts of things from pornography. When he said it in a monotone, they fucked him harder so that the words were forced out of him in little gasps and squeaks, even in little sobs – and Ardyn wasn’t sure Noctis could tell the difference. 

It went on. The men only stopped when they couldn’t drag any reaction out of Noctis – not when they pinched and twisted his nipples with their fingernails, not when they flicked at his cock, digging into the tip. Noctis was awake, that much was plain enough to see. His eyes were still open, blue as the sky, and they did all the things they were supposed to – tracked movements, blinked, squeezed shut when they were threatened. Noctis was awake and aware, and it was only the rest of his body that had somehow shut off. The Empire soldiers got bored when they tried to fit three in and the boy wasn’t even making enough reaction to make it worth the awkward position. After a few half-hearted thrusts, they flung him down, discarding him like something used once and thrown away. They left the room, filing out in twos and threes, reenacting choice bits from the dinner party, their laughter echoing in the empty halls of the Citadel. 

Noctis lied sprawled on the table, his limbs at awkward angles, which he didn’t even bother to right. It was as if he had learned from his previous mistake and was expecting the soldiers to return – or perhaps for a new group to arrive, to continue where the previous group had left off. But only Ardyn was left in here with him. Ardyn did want to keep him whole, and another group right now might be over the limit of what his body could handle. So he pushed himself up from his chair and walked towards Noctis, deliberately taking the long way around so that the boy could see him from where he was lying. 

The table was a mess of cum, and the floor too. Ardyn held out his hand and the Scourge leapt to his call, seeking out the presence of living cells, gathering up every drop. They swept the floor, the chairs, and the table, and then Ardyn was standing right over Noctis as the Scourge licked its way up his body. Noctis said nothing, didn’t move. If there was a fire inside him, he’d smothered it, kept it hidden. The only disgust he betrayed was a wince when Ardyn smeared Scourge on his cheek, and the black stuff expanded to suck in even the cum smeared on him there, the blood, the tears. 

Not wanting to keep Noctis wondering much longer, Ardyn crooned, pressing his palm to the now clean skin of Noctis’ face. “I have the means for you to get back to every man that had had you, every single one of them. And it’s yours, if you asked for it.”

He knew he had pushed Noctis to some limits when the boy didn’t even point out that Ardyn had been one of those men, didn’t even ask what the cost was. He just batted his eyelashes once – and Ardyn flicked out the Scourge to snatch up a tear that was still caught there, savoring the last that Noctis’ suffering had to give. 

Holding his gaze, the boy blinked slowly, and said steadily, enunciation each syllable, “Do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, second chapter! I got this out so fast but still I am running out of steam.  
> There may be a third chapter, there may be not. I am not feeling horny about it at the moment, if you feel me, but I may be in the future. So who knows!  
> This chapter and the previous one was proof-read by https://archiveofourown.org/users/Data_HEX, thank you for indulging my garbage.  
> As always, please let me know if this needs any additional tag! And please yell at me if you like it and if you want more/the direction you want this to be going.

It was common knowledge that the Crown Prince hadn’t lived in the Citadel since his high school days. The press had had a number of things to say about it. Ardyn had followed an entire series of tabloids speculating on what he did on his own and with whom, and also other gossipy pieces about who was paying for his apartment and how much it cost. Stupid, trivial things to be worried about, petty human things, and yet Ardyn supposed he could see the appeal. He did read the entire thing avidly after all. 

Ardyn didn’t suppose Noctis would ever imagine his return to his childhood bedroom would be under these circumstances. 

Iedolas seemed to have gotten what he’d wanted out of Noctis. He’d never been a great believer of prophecies, and as far as he was concerned, Noctis was nothing more than the son of his enemy. He believed he’d broken the boy, enough that he would pose no threat to the Empire, and had lost interest altogether. The Emperor was more preoccupied with transporting the Crystal back to the Empire and hunting down the Ring. Naturally, when preparations were in place, Iedolas was on the first transport out along with the Crystal, protective like a mother hen with a prize egg and eager to return to his Imperial luxuries. Besithia and Drautos were to accompany him, and it was these two that Ardyn was more eager to get out of the way. The young Nox Fleuret Prince, as well as the Dragoon commander seemed determined to stay out of his way, and Ardyn couldn’t have asked for better circumstances. 

For the last two days, Iedolas had paraded all around the Citadel, holding temporary court on Regis’ throne. Now, with him and his retinue cleared out, Ardyn was the only one to walk under the high dome, to trail his fingers over the marble, the only one to sit down on the throne and gaze at the much too empty space in front of him. 

It was almost perfect. He only needed the right company. 

Ardyn knew Noctis’ bedroom intimately by now. Over the last two days, even as he pretended to be at Iedolas’ beck and call, there was plenty of time for him to take care of his own business, down to the smallest detail. The bedroom was dark with its thick curtains drawn, but Ardyn didn’t suppose Noctis would care very much, because he had had the Scourge cover over the boy’s eyes again. He liked the idea of keeping Noctis blind and helpless, wondering just how long it’d been since he’d been held. Ardyn didn’t even allow him a pause, something like, say, the regularity of a meal to help him keep track of time. Ardyn had that taken care of another way. The tentacle in his mouth was slowly but steadily pumping in all sorts of nutritious things to keep him going: milk, sugar water, a clear thin broth – the bare minimum that his body required. It was probably strange to think of the Scourge as life-giving in any way, but here they were. Ardyn wondered if Noctis could even tell the different tastes as the liquid were dribbled into his parched throat. 

The rest of Noctis’ bodily functions were also taken over by the Scourge, surviving by proxy. It wouldn’t do for him to even have that pedestrian distraction of staying alive; Ardyn wanted the boy to be completely focused on his new function. On what Ardyn wanted his body for. 

It had been easy to gather up all the cum, even splattered all over the place as it had been, with the help of the Scourge. The first of the transformation was already taking place then, though Noctis wouldn’t have known it until much, much later. At the time, it probably had only felt like more of the same – a thick Scourge tentacle sliding into his open entrance and claiming all the space it could there. If Noctis had thought he’d been violated all he could, he would discover otherwise soon. 

Ardyn had promised him the means to get back to every man who had left their marks on him, and it had been no idle promise. The seeds of these men were a strong anchor for the Scourge, the catalyst of their transformation. With their help, it would be easy for Ardyn to raise an army of daemons more powerful than anything else that had come before. And the plus side: those daemons would sap on the living essence of their human imprints until nothing remained but husks of their former selves. 

The only downside of this method was that it took a bit of time and effort. The seed, Ardyn had already gotten. Now, he only needed a warm body to protect and nurture those seeds of darkness, and to bring them into existence properly. 

“And how are we doing today?” Ardyn purred as he closed the door behind him. It wasn’t as if anyone could or would dare to interrupt, but he liked the finality of the click of the lock, knowing the sound would set Noctis’ senses ablaze. What he got in return was a muffled whimper, and Ardyn paused to appreciate the sight. 

Noctis knelt on his bed, face down, ass held aloft. His face was tilted up at an awkward angle, the tentacle in his mouth forcing his jaw open. His throat still worked awkwardly around the intrusion, not quite giving up the instinct to swallow, even if Ardyn knew that right now there was nothing to swallow. Only the boy’s spit, perhaps, but that was ineffective as it escaped the side of his mouth, dribbling onto the bed, soaking up the pillow that Ardyn had set there to prop him up so that his power jammer collar wouldn’t dig into his air way and cut off his breathing altogether. Now Ardyn tugged the pillow away and tossed it to the floor, then absently pushed a hand into Noctis’ hair. It was greasy and matted after the days he’d spent as the Empire’s guest, but it was still nice to play with. The little panicked intake of breath Noctis took when Ardyn tightened his fist was only a bonus. 

At first Ardyn had had Noctis’ arms tied behind his back, but as Noctis became too heavy to move, he’d allowed the boy to have his arms spread on the bed to better support his body. Two tentacles wrapped tightly around his wrists, keeping him lashed to the bed frame, his fingers splayed open limply like dead birds. The Scourge had tied Noctis’ legs too, calves to thighs, leaving the entrance to his body unencumbered, his thighs open wide at the angle of Ardyn’s choosing. Noctis knew it was useless to resist this – even if he were to close his legs, his hole would still be at Ardyn’s disposal. 

The thickest strand of Scourge was buried deep in his ass, pulsing. If a few days back it could only have been seen as an outline, now his stomach was very much _bulging_ with the weight inside of it. The Scourge had been working with the seeds over the days, and every hour or so, it turned out an egg. They were not very big, not inhumanly so anyway, only about goose-egg-sized. But with the number of men that had tainted him, they added up. The Scourge had laid the last egg in place a few hours back, and now it sat contently at Noctis’ entrance, sealing its clutch in place inside the body that housed them. 

Ardyn probed now with a finger past his rim, chuckling in amusement as Noctis’ breathing seemed to quicken as the boy clutched nervously around him. The eggs were shifting inside him even with only that small a movement; he was stuffed so full, the eggs must be grinding against his inner walls and pressing down mercilessly on any sensitive spot. “You’re beautiful like this, Noctis,” Ardyn said, and the admiration in his voice was genuine. He trailed his hand from Noctis’ hair to the side of his face, stroking his cheek. “I don’t think I could have asked for a better vessel.” 

He pulled back and made a lazy gesture with his hand. The Scourge, gorged like a tick on suffering and anticipating more, leapt to Ardyn’s command. Noctis gasped and coughed as the tentacle pulled out almost too fast from his throat, and he heaved and wheezed for a while as his body accustomed again to just _being_ without that intrusion. When the Scourge released his wrists, Noctis slowly toppled over to the side. One hand flew to his belly as if trying to hold himself together; the other rested at his throat as he coughed and retched thin, clear slimy liquid onto the bed covers. When he managed to stop, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, though that didn’t make him any less of a mess. If anything, the way the drool clung to his hand in transparent strings just made him look more debauched. 

Ardyn pulled the Scourge from his eyes and released his legs, too. For a while he left Noctis all sprawled out there over the bed, allowing him a moment to feel how full he truly was, how completely captive he was with that burden inside of him, even with his body unrestrained. Slowly, Noctis’ vision adjusted, and when he recognized Ardyn’s silhouette, his eyes welled up. “What—” he started, his voice a dead croak, and only that much effort made him cough until his throat was raw, curled up on the bed as the spasm racked through him. Ardyn admired the way his body tightened with each hacking cough, which must have made him feel the eggs that sat heavily inside him even more. By the time he’d gathered himself, his face was red with effort, and his eyes were streaming. “What more do you want from me?” 

Still not broken after all. Ardyn hadn’t expected any less. 

He reached out a hand and Noctis shrank from it, but it was not like he could move all that much to get away from Ardyn’s reach altogether. Seizing his chin, Ardyn forced his face up so he could look him in the eye. “Oh, my dear Noctis. You have much, much more to give and I have not even begun.” 

* 

Ardyn made him walk all the way to the throne room. 

If he’d wanted to parade Noctis to show him off to others, he would’ve been sorely disappointed. The Citadel halls were deserted, Empire soldiers having left and Lucian workers that were captured having been carted off to other forts and holding facilities. As of this day, Ardyn and Noctis were the only ones left here. But lucky for Ardyn, the parade was only for himself. In fact, he didn’t think he would suffer for anyone else to have the privilege of this beautiful sight. 

He had Noctis walking in front of him as he ambled behind, the parody of a guest being shown around by his guide, his eyes intent on the wavering form in front of him. Noctis was tottering and lurching, trembling with every step. His hands cradled the burden in his belly, perhaps trying to keep it from moving around too much as he picked and chose his steps with much care. It wouldn’t have made any difference. Nothing Noctis could do was very effective, judging by the way his knees seemed to give occasionally and he would pitch forward as if he’d fall over, allowing Ardyn the perfect view of his ass – filled full to bursting and then plugged by the Scourge to keep the eggs from spilling out. Whenever that happened, Ardyn would smugly remind him not to risk the eggs in any way, and Noctis would grind his teeth and refuse to look back as he slogged on, even as his prostate was bruised and pounded by the eggs moving within him. 

This must be the point where Noctis had to be wondering if he wasn’t already at his limits, if he hadn’t had any more to give, and yet he walked towards it unwaveringly, ready to face whatever fate awaiting him – all for the sake of his friends. 

By the Six, Ardyn was jealous. 

When they got to the throne room, Noctis must have finally allowed himself to believe that there would be no more dining table filled with Empire soldiers waiting to take turn at his hole. He did glance back at Ardyn then, suspicious, and Ardyn had to laugh. “Well done, Noctis,” he said, clapping his hands together slowly as he walked up the steps towards the throne and took a seat. The carved marble was hard and unyielding, some statement about the burden of rulers perhaps. A bit in the face, but that had always been true about his dear brother. Crooking his finger to gesture for Noctis to come to him, Ardyn confided, “What you’re carrying is far too precious to leave in the hands of such vulgar company as Calligo and his goons. No, right now you’re for my use only, Noctis. And I fully intend to use every bit of you that you have to give.” 

Noctis’ eyes were bright as he climbed the steps. Ardyn watched him – big and heavy with the spawn of darkness, so much so that his belly was rounded by it and his knees could hardly support him. When he made it to the top step he was at his limits, collapsing onto the marble floor. And yet he still remembered Ardyn’s order, throwing out his hands to stop his fall and letting his knees hit the stone painfully – and thanks to that, was able to keep the eggs entirely whole. 

Such a good boy. Ardyn would make sure to reward him plenty. 

Ardyn sat back on the throne to give Noctis a good view. Here was his biggest enemy – his enemy in ways that Noctis didn’t even _know_ yet – sitting at the place of his father, at the place that Noctis had gone through such harsh and bitter preparations to take. It must seem worse than blasphemy. Slowly, keeping his eyes on Noctis’ face, Ardyn spread his legs and gestured towards his crotch. His cock was half hard already so Noctis couldn’t really miss what he meant. “Well? What are you waiting for? You know what to do. I saw you do it so beautifully, like you’ve trained your whole life for it. I don’t want anything less than the… hospitality you’ve shown the Imperial delegation.” 

Noctis stared at him, for a moment looking like he was unimpressed. Ardyn had to commend him on that unfailing attitude, even after everything. Ardyn supposed it would make it even more satisfying to see the changes on that mobile, guileless face, in those clear bright eyes – after he’d broken him. Ardyn could be patient though, and he sat back, saying nothing, waiting for Noctis to make his move. 

Slowly, painfully, the boy pushed himself up on his knees. It was a very precarious position, with his belly round and heavy with eggs, but he managed not to topple over. It also made his back arch almost painfully, and Ardyn was rewarded with the perfect view of his ass all pushed up to frame the picture. Ardyn didn’t begrudge him a little support when the boy leaned heavily onto his lap, his hands gripping Ardyn’s knees for dear life. He only watched serenely as Noctis used that support to adjust himself. Then he sat back a little, parting the folds of Ardyn’s clothing until he found the zipper and undid it, and, still looking as impassive as ever, pulled out his cock. 

If he was at all daunted by the size, Noctis didn’t let it show – though Ardyn supposed it was hard to be impressed with what he’d had inside him already. Reluctantly he stroked it until it became fully erected. At least, Ardyn had thought it was reluctance, but not really. When he looked closer at Noctis’ face, the boy’s eyes were huge and dark, his breathing short, his cheeks flushed red. His tongue darted out, almost surreptitiously, wetting his lips as he thumbed the tip of Ardyn’s cock. Ardyn noticed with wicked amusement that the boy’s cock was hard and already leaking precum onto the floor between his legs. The Scourge in his ass squirmed happily as it secreted a clear slick juice, and it wasn’t long before Noctis was dripping on the floor, squirming with anticipation and yet still hesitant, conflicted, torn between what his body was telling him to do and what little dignity his mind was still trying to remind him of. Whatever part of his brain he was still in control of must be yelling at his body, wondering what was happening to him. Ardyn didn’t have to touch him to know how warm Noctis was, how he was already panting at the idea of Ardyn’s cock anywhere near him. 

“My poor, lonely pet,” Ardyn crooned, reaching out with his foot. He had to be careful to be out of the way of Noctis’ prominent belly, but he could still reach his cock with the tip of his shoes, giving it a nudge. Noctis whimpered at that – there was not even a gag for him to hide behind, and he had no choice but to utter his pleasure for Ardyn to hear. His eyes, still black, were almost fever bright, and Ardyn didn’t have to encourage him any further for him to take his cock in his mouth. “How long has it been? You’ve spent days without release, with the eggs spreading you open, pressing against your sweet spot. Ah—” 

Noctis had closed his mouth around Ardyn’s cock with an almost greedy slurp, and Ardyn had to pause in his speech to take in how perfect it was – the wet heat of his mouth, the soft velvety of his tongue lapping up around his length with little kitten licks. Ardyn didn’t even have to use his foot anymore, Noctis was twitching ever so slightly on his knees, moving his hips so he could rub his cock against Ardyn’s shoe, as he worked Ardyn’s cock deeper and deeper into his throat with each bob of his head. The sight made the next words came out of Ardyn in a deep growl, and he could not stop talking if he wanted to, not with Noctis lapping and soaking up every syllable like a young shoot soaking up the sun. 

“You have not had any release, have you? Poor Noctis, if you really knew what you’re doing, you would be scandalized. A piece of advice, if you could remember it: I would not be too hard on myself, if I were you. Men made of much stronger stuffs had been changed more drastically by the Scourge, and you—you’re only a boy, after all.” 

Ardyn wasn’t even going to pretend that he wasn’t to blame. After all, Noctis had seemed perfectly lucid up until Ardyn had all but pushed his cock in his face. But Ardyn was filled to the brim with Scourge too, and the egg-laying creature inside Noctis must have called to the Scourge in Ardyn like a mate. At the first whiff of cock, it must have warmed Noctis’ body from the inside, priming him to get the eggs inseminated, until he was panting with the need, begging to be filled as if it was the only way he could be whole. 

Ardyn didn’t want to make him talk like the men at the dinner had done. He didn’t want to waste Noctis’ pretty mouth on some artificial phrases, borrowed from some pornography, fake and lifeless. It was enough to watch Noctis speak with his body, lost and helpless with want, his eyes at the same time so far away and so focused in the moment, on the pleasure he might extract from Ardyn’s body even as Ardyn may violate his own. Yes, it was far more satisfying to watch Noctis drool over his cock, taking it greedily into his throat and letting out impatient noise with each further bob of his head, as if he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t managed to coax any seed out of Ardyn just yet. After a few more fruitless attempts, he gave Ardyn such an affronted and challenging _look_ before pushing in all the way, his nose hitting Ardyn’s crotch, his lips pressed close against his balls, and he held the pose as his throat worked around the girth inside it. 

Ardyn pulled him off when he saw Noctis’ eyes started to roll to the back of his head. As delightful as it might have been to watch Noctis literally choke on his cock, this was hardly the main entertainment, and Ardyn wanted him to save his strength for later. Still, it was exquisite to hear the little keening noise that Noctis had made, like Ardyn had removed the source of the air he breathed when he moved his cock away. 

“Shh, so needy,” Ardyn crooned, tucking a finger under his chin to lift his face, admiring his handiwork for a moment. Noctis was utterly flushed and disheveled, and he was breathing in great wheezing gasps, his tongue slightly lolling between small white teeth. His bangs were everywhere in his face after the effort, and Ardyn made sure to brush them back so nothing could impede his view of the boy. “Don’t you worry, you sweet boy. You need not warm me up any more than that. I will take care of you, thoroughly, and I promise that you will love it.” 

There were only so many positions they could enjoy, with Noctis so… encumbered, but Ardyn was quick to figure out a way. Noctis had been obedient so far, it was true, but now he was so completely receptive, almost docile. Ardyn felt a surge of power, knowing himself to be the cause of the boy’s desperation. Noctis’ skin seemed already to yearn to his touch, and he was finely attuned to Ardyn’s own desire – shifting to better present himself at a single touch, glancing over his shoulder occasionally as if to make sure Ardyn was still there. 

Taking his time, Ardyn arranged Noctis on his hands and knees. He wasn’t completely merciless – he’d made sure to choose a carpeted spot, though he was sure Noctis’ body would not thank him for the burn marks later. But then again, he would probably have other things to worry about. As soon as Ardyn positioned himself behind Noctis, the boy immediately reared back, and let out a frustrated noise when that achieved little but to smear the slick from his ass all over the front of Ardyn’s clothes. 

Ardyn chuckled, amused. “Dirty boy. I should punish you for that. But didn’t you forget something?” He didn’t make Noctis wait more though. In his veins, he already felt a warmth that was only half the Scourge. The other half was his own desire at seeing Noctis baring himself for him this way, so desperate for release he would beg for it from the man he hated so. Moving his fingers in an abstracted way, he ordered the Scourge to leave Noctis’ body, and it did, slithering away with a small chittering, leaving slick trails over Noctis’ skin where it touched, until it found its place at the base of Noctis’ cock. Just as it had done before, it tightened under Noctis’ balls and around the base, and Noctis let out yet another keening sound. Ardyn knew the Scourge would stay there and kept Noctis… interested, so to speak, as long as it took until the eggs were safely delivered, until the very last one. 

Ardyn’s attention was on Noctis’ ass now. Despite the constant stretch, it still retained some of its… elasticity, if you would, and the gape only allowed the view of a few eggs – though Ardyn may have used ‘only’ loosely. Perhaps you shouldn’t be able to see even that much in a normal, unstretched body, but he digressed. Carefully, he slotted his body against Noctis’ – his torso pressed to Noctis’ back, a hand splaying under Noctis’ chest and another supporting him under the swell of his belly. Business before pleasure, after all, and Ardyn wasn’t about to go back on his promise. After all, he _had_ told Noctis he would give him revenge, and that wouldn’t be achieved if he ruined this clutch with his carelessness. 

Ardyn rubbed soothing circles into Noctis’ chest, feeling the fluttering and trembling of the body underneath him calm somewhat. And then, since it was just there, he flicked at a nipple to get a cry out of Noctis. The boy’s ass tightened, squeezing out another pulse of slick, and Ardyn supposed that was as plain an invitation as he would ever get, one that he shouldn’t leave unanswered for long. He pulled back a little, just enough to line himself up, and then pressed close to Noctis again as he slowly pushed his way inside. 

It was tight. Gods, it was tight. Noctis’ muscles may have slackened during the last few days, but it was very… _crowded_ inside of him. Ardyn could feel the eggs pressing down as he pushed in, their texture firm but somewhat giving, almost rubbery, and so very smooth and slick. As he pushed in, he could feel with his hand a jumping movement in the skin over Noctis’ stomach as the eggs shifted and slid inside of him, rearranging themselves to accommodate the extra intrusion. 

“Shh,” Ardyn shushed again as Noctis started to tremble all over as the pressure over his prostate must have become unbearable. He was more or less holding Noctis up now, as he doubted the boy’s knees and elbows could support so much weight for so long. He pushed and pushed until he could go no further, and he felt the whimper vibrating from Noctis’ chest to his. Noctis was looking down at himself now, chin tipped back to rest against his collar, as if trying to confirm whether his stomach was as full to bursting as he must feel. The answer was yes: the skin over Noctis’ stomach was stretched so thin it was a miracle he hadn’t burst at the seams. Noctis should be able to see the shape of a few individual eggs, grotesque tumors invading him, pushed closed to the surface now that Ardyn’s cock was plunged deep inside him. 

“Take a good look, Noct,” Ardyn chuckled. It was a little surprise to himself that his own voice was a little breathless, but he supposed he could be excused for his excitement. Who wouldn’t be? Still slowly, Ardyn pulled his cock almost all of the way out until only the tip remained inside, paused a moment to allow Noctis to feel the relief – and then, all at once, he shoved himself back inside, savoring the scream that Noctis let out when his cock slammed home. 

It was easy with the slick that the Scourge had left inside Noctis’ body. It was also utterly delicious, as Noctis spasmed and squeezed around him frantically, his arms and legs jumping with aborted motions as if he couldn’t decide whether to crawl away from the stimulation or to push back against it. With his hands braced against Noctis’ body, it was easy for Ardyn to pull him back even if he’d moved away, just tug him down onto his cock again. Which each thrust, Noctis’ screams grew until they folded back into themselves until they were nothing but quiet, suppressed sobs. Weaved along with the tears were Noctis’ attempts at begging Ardyn to please stop, his _I can’t take this anymore’_ s and _You’ll kill me’_ s, and Ardyn found himself chuckling at that last whispered bit. 

“Oh, but Noct, I don’t want to kill you,” Ardyn whispered, even as he pushed steadily in and out of Noctis. “I do believe in your purpose, and trust me when I say you will find it beyond the walls of this Citadel. But nothing said I couldn’t have a bit of fun with you first.” Noctis was still sobbing and whimpering as he spoke, and Ardyn wasn’t sure if much of what he was saying was getting through. But since Ardyn was already accused of being too fond of the sound of his own voice, he might as well enjoy a bit of monologue here and there. Especially since he was only slightly out of breath, all while holding most of Noctis’ weight up and fucking into his yielding body this way. 

Noctis came first through no design of Ardyn’s own. His body just gave in so easily to pleasure, as it was proven again and again during the dinner with the Emperor, to his own despair and dismay. Right now, it must be so much easier, with the Scourge already infusing him, whispering suggestions in his ears and molding his body to yield to Ardyn’s cock like it was made for him. His cock had been bouncing and slapping against his thighs since the beginning, and with the Scrouge squeezing it so securely at the base, Noctis could have no release even as he climaxed. It did make him more sensitive, and he was twitching almost manically, hole tightening and flaring around Ardyn’s girth as it continued to enter his body. It was intoxicating to see him that way, and it wasn’t like Ardyn needed much more encouragement. A few more thrusts, one more tightening spasm of Noctis’ body, and Ardyn came, spilling – or, more correctly, _planting_ his seeds deep inside of him. 

Now, it would be a lie to say it didn’t tax him. Ardyn only managed a few more thrusts until the pleasure became too much, and he curbed himself. After all, it would be a waste if he was to overwork himself and then run out of steam here and now, as no one else could do the work he was to do with Noctis’ body. He held still then, breathing deeply, still clutching Noctis to him, drinking in the sight of him, the desperate noises Noctis still made as if he wasn’t aware Ardyn had stopped, as pleasure still traveled in electric shocks up his spine, down to his toes and the very tips of his fingers. 

He felt the first contraction when he was still buried deep inside Noctis, and that was the sign Ardyn had needed to pull out. 

Ardyn had almost expected a wash of fluids when he pulled out – cum and slick and everything else Noctis had been filled with. But no, there was nothing, and he realized that the Scourge must not have wanted to waste all that precious resources needlessly. Even now it must be frenziedly lapping up Ardyn’s seed, pumping it inside Noctis’ body to make sure it touched as many eggs as possible, the meeting of darkness and darkness sparking the last transformation these eggs required. 

Noctis let out a noise like he’d been punched, the breath being knocked out of him. His stomach jumped. There was no time to waste, and Ardyn eased himself down first, sitting down on the floor with his back against the throne, his legs bracketing Noctis’ body as he pulled the boy back to lean against him. Almost tenderly Ardyn held both Noctis’ hands, and he felt some satisfaction when Noctis tightened his grip, holding onto him for dear life as yet another spasm rocked his body. 

“W-What’s happening?” He whimpered, his voice so small and scared. As if out of everything that had already happened, this was the scariest yet. Ardyn couldn’t blame him. Even if Noctis had already had himself pumped full of Scourge, had held it inside his warm living body for days with only the idea of its festering infection for company, he had been spared the sight of it. But now, like this, with his legs spread and a perfect view of his own body, there was no way Noctis could deny the monstrosity that would come out of him. 

He tried to close his legs, and Ardyn tutted as he hooked his feet under Noctis’ ankles to force them open again. At the frustrated, almost enraged noise that Noctis made – anger born out of fear – Ardyn chuckled and clamped his teeth, warningly, over his shoulder, before leaning over to whisper in his ears. “There is no stopping it now, Noctis. You’ve asked me for revenge, and here it is. Here it comes, now.” 

The delivery was heralded with a surge of slick. It was nothing sinister, not a funny color or funky smell, or anything else people might have associated with such an evil event. The slick was clear and odorless, functional – just lubrication to prime Noctis’ body for the process. And still Noctis startled at the sudden wetness, moaning as his leg kicked out reflexively, flight instinct not quite numbed just yet. From Ardyn’s view he could look down over Noctis’ chest and see how hard his nipples were, how they stood against his skin like small pebbles. When his hands were free, he would make sure to give them the attention they deserved. 

Judging by the way Noctis’ toes curl and his still hard cock quiver, his entire body must feel like a live wire. It must be impossible for his mind to process all the sensations that were sparking and jumping from one nerve ending to another, constantly, almost all at once. Still, the Scourge coaxed his body through what it needed to do, and he started to gulp in long, calming breaths, and then his entrance dilated. Soon, the first egg could be seen against his entrance, the dark substance startlingly stark against the tender shell pink of Noctis’ hole. 

The first egg slid out, noiselessly and almost effortlessly in a wash of slick. It had grown in size since coming in contact with Ardyn’s seed, enough that it stretched out Noctis’ hole before popping out. Noctis bit his lip, his hands squeezing Ardyn’s hard enough that Ardyn actually felt the crush of bones against bones, panting when the egg made it past the widest point, and let out a half surprised half ecstatic gasp at the release. Still breathing heavily, he stared wide eyed at the egg on the floor in front of him, shimmering dark with a red-pink core like a small galaxy, a gemstone, pulsing and throbbing as if it was breathing. It was beautiful and yet there was no mistaking its nature as something beyond corrupted, rotten to its very core, and it had come from Noctis’ body. In fact, it was still tied to Noctis with a string of thick, transparent slick, and Noctis made a thin wailing noise in the back of his throat as he now began to see just what it was he had harbored. 

“It’s beautiful, Noct,” Ardyn whispered in a low, hoarse voice, and it was only half a taunt. The Scourge egg was perfect, ruination narrowed down to the head of a pin. The light inside of it was the color of Ardyn’s Armiger – not that he could tell Noctis that – and he watched as the glow pulsed – dimming for only a moment before glowing again brighter than before, enough to throw a halo of neon light around the egg. Reflected by the polished marble, the light casted a surreal veil on the throne room, on Noctis’ pallid skin, and Ardyn was filled with a savage joy as he only imagined the spectacle it would be after Noctis had delivered his entire clutch. 

The skin on Noctis’ stomach jumped again with a by now tell-tale spasm, and Ardyn watched intently as another egg came out. And then another, and another. They came faster now, as if after a trial run the Scourge was now sure that Noctis’ body was ready for the task. Noctis didn’t scream, much, but it was obvious from the way he twitched that each egg renewed the pleasure in him. Even as his head rolled back against Ardyn’s shoulder, his lips parted as if awaiting the kiss of a lover, his hands still clutched Ardyn’s in a vicious grip. As if he was thinking, if this was the only way he could get back at Ardyn, if this was the only mean he had of hurting Ardyn even a fraction of what Ardyn had hurt him, then he would take it – even at the risk of breaking his own bones. 

Sweet boy. He had no idea what Ardyn had seen and felt, and lived. Even if Noctis had mustered all his strength and called on a reserve of ferociousness he didn’t have to try and crush Ardyn’s hands, it didn’t even register as a discomfort. It was like hoarfrost in an early fall morning, the blink of an eye seen in a dream. And yet Ardyn read in the attempt a part of Noctis’ innocence yet unbroken, and he savored it. When he tired of the sight of the Scourge eggs, he leaned in to lick and mouth at the bitemark he’d left on Noctis’ shoulder, and continued to leave bruises and bites all the way up his neck, enjoying the way the vein throbbed against his lips, tasting the salt of Noctis’ sweat at the tip of his tongue. 

Ardyn wasn’t sure how long it went on. He hadn’t really registered it when the string of eggs had slowed, and when he next lifted his head and looked, it had stopped altogether. Noctis was almost limp against him now, as if he had realized this was a moment of reprieve and was making his best use of it. Ardyn freed one of his hands, running it from Noctis’ chest down to his stomach, and _pressed_. Noctis jumped with a cry, as Ardyn had thought he would. Even if the bulge in his stomach had dramatically reduced, there were still eggs inside him – hard, rubbery, lumpy ovals – that the Scourge must not have been able to inseminate, and they lied still inside him, inert, waiting. 

“You’ve done impressive work, Noct – only a little more.” When Ardyn whispered in his ear, he felt Noctis squirm. Was he disgusted at the sound of his nickname from Ardyn’s mouth, or was it only a reaction from having Ardyn’s lips so close to his ear? If it was the latter, then Noctis must realize also that Ardyn’s breath wasn’t foul or rotten, it was just a normal human breath, and it did tickle him just like any playful, normal human would. Chuckling, Ardyn moved his hands to support under Noctis’ knees. As he shifted to stand up, Noctis must have felt the unbalance, and he threw his arms back to clutch at the back of Ardyn’s head. 

Ardyn carried him as he was – legs wide open and pressed against Ardyn’s front – over to the throne. After he’d taken a seat, Ardyn guided Noctis along on his lap, and it was the easiest thing in the world to pull his hips back and slotted his now hard cock right into Noctis’ hole, and keep going until he was fully sheathed. 

Noctis seemed to barely feel it. It was only to be expected – most of the eggs had left him, and he was now half empty and had the space to spare. If anything, having Ardyn’s cock inside him must have been a relief, as it must be strange to be suddenly empty after all this time. At the moment, he was more concerned in trying to rearrange himself so that he didn’t fall face first onto the floor. As he moved, he made minute movements, causing Ardyn’s cock to slide up and down into him. When he noticed the friction, he bit back a moan, and stopped – gripping onto the armrests of the throne to keep balance instead. Well, Ardyn wasn’t going to let him off that easily. 

It was tempting, really, to put his hands over that narrow waist – from behind, Ardyn could hardly see the bulge of Noctis’ belly and the boy looked as slender as ever. But Ardyn remembered what he had been itching to do and he went for it, reaching around to pinch Noctis’ nipples between his fingers and tweaked them, hard. Noctis jolted, and the Scourge acted in tandem with Ardyn, relaxing its grip around Noctis’ cock slightly, just enough so it could start pulsing, squeezing, stimulating. All this to bring Noctis’ body to the peak of needs again, to make him at the most receptive to Ardyn’s seed. As Noctis gnawed on his lip and clutched the arm rests as if they were the only safe thing in this entire space, Ardyn toyed mercilessly with his nipples, plucking and rolling and pinching them with his nails until Noctis cried out. 

“You’re not done yet,” Ardyn said, mildly, conversationally, as if Noctis had said something and he was replying. “There’s still half the clutch inside you, waiting. Aren’t you going to see it through the end? Are you going to leave half of the men who’d tormented you unpunished?” 

Noctis glared at him over his shoulder, but there wasn’t much heat. He was already half lost to the needs – if the way his ass tightened, making the dimples where ass met thighs that much more prominent, was any indication. Ardyn finally gave in and placed his hand there, his thumbs resting in the inviting dip of these dimples, his other fingers skimming over Noctis’ belly, occasionally digging in to feel the firmness of the eggs under soft human flesh. And then – not needing any cue from Ardyn, Noctis moved. From his precarious perch over Ardyn’s lap, he started to fuck himself on Ardyn’s cock, lifting his hips and dropping down, again and again. 

It was nothing like when Iedolas had taken him. Back then, Noctis had been only performing a duty. Even as his body had been violated to the point of betraying him in the end, his mind had been clear and safe in its fortress of hate. Now, though? The Scourge inside him had blurred that line, and Noctis was lost in pleasure. He had had a moment’s respite where reason had come back to him, but now as the Scourge made him beg for Ardyn’s seed he was lost again. Ardyn could only wonder how much of it he would remember. He had meant what he had said earlier though: it was hardly Noctis’ fault. Other men had been led astray for less. 

At one point, Noctis’ palms – slick with sweat now, and no doubt cramping from so much squeezing – slipped off of the armrests of the throne. Unbalanced and also thrown by how hard he was working his body, he nearly pitched forward, and without thinking, Ardyn flung out his arms to catch him. It wasn’t until he’d pulled Noctis securely back that he realized that he hadn’t even been thinking about the eggs, or even about keeping Noctis whole to prolong his torment. Only that he didn’t want the boy to hurt himself on the marble floor. Scandalously, he had had a fleeting thought of how much he’d hurt Noctis already without causing unnecessary harm, and—Well. That was probably barely mercy at all, but it still didn’t sit well with him. 

As punishment for something Noctis must not have even realized he’d done, Ardyn pulled Noctis back against him with an iron grip, enough to make the boy regret his clumsiness. “Well, now. I appreciate your zeal, but it would be no use if you broke the eggs, would it? Maybe you even did it on purpose?” As Noctis let out a noise of protest, Ardyn hushed him. “No, Noctis. Your body is mine now, do you understand? It is up to me to use it as I see fit – and you will enjoy it.” 

With his arms hooked under Noctis’ knees, Ardyn pulled him back until he was bent in half. Like this, his legs were uselessly in the air, and even as he flailed and tried to grasp onto something for balance, it would do him no good. Only Ardyn held the leverage now, only Ardyn decided on the movements. And he tried out his new power immediately, lifting Noctis’ body and dropping it again onto his cock. It nearly took his breath away to feel how he was able to enter Noctis just that slightest bit deeper. The view permitted him to see the rim of Noctis’ hole sliding along the length of his cock, the way it hugged the base. It wasn’t long until Ardyn picked up the pace, fucking Noctis at a steady, brutal pace, driving for that spot inside him over and over again to watch his toes curl and to feel his legs strain against his grip as the boy struggled in resistance – without knowing he was doing it, apparently. 

Yes, Noctis was lost. He wasn’t fighting as much as he was reacting to the stimulation. Ardyn, well, Ardyn was a little dismayed at how _lost_ he himself was, too. He was warm all over, and he disregarded the strain on his own muscles as he took on the brunt of the task. All that mattered to him was to hold Noctis close, to be as deep inside him as possible, to give him his seed. It was almost a haze, and it took a while for Ardyn to realize that the litany from Noctis’ lips was no longer a meaningless scream. They were words, one plea after another, forming a chant as they alternated with his name: _Ardyn, please, please, Ardyn, Ardyn, please_. Noctis’ hands were reaching to the back of Ardyn’s head, fingers tangling into the hair there. He clutched at it hard, as if the pleas from his lips and the tears streaming down his face weren’t enough, and he needed another outlet to vent what he was feeling. It was when Noctis all but wound his fists into Ardyn’s hair and _tugged_ , hard, that Ardyn felt release sneak up on him, and all it took was another thrust for him to reach climax, spilling himself hotly and messily into the warm heat of Noctis’ body. 

There was almost no time to catch his breath, as he felt Noctis’ body contract almost painfully around him. Noctis cried out, too, his body jerking in an eerie, almost liquid jerk. As if the Scourge had taken over even the rest of his body and he now moved as the tentacles did, fluid, boneless, inhuman. Ardyn could even feel the eggs inside him expanding, feel the dome of the closest one crowd against the head of his dick, hurrying him to pull out now that he’d served his purpose. 

As Ardyn carefully slid away from the throne – arranging Noctis in it instead, each leg hooked over an armrest, his hands clawing at the velvet cushion at the back, even as he watched a fresh batch of eggs started to pump out of him, it was not enough to distract him from the feeling that was now hammering in his chest. He’d been annoyed before, at the thought of having to share Noctis with the men at the dinner, but then Ardyn had been secure in his knowledge that he would be the one to truly possess Noctis. Now, he wasn’t so sure. It was the Scourge that Noctis’ body now craved, the Scourge that he was crying out for, the Scourge that had invaded his body, which had latched onto Noctis and suckled on his warmth and essence. It was the Scourge that was now stretching his hole, making him scream with each new egg delivered, it was the Scourge that had now released his cock and was stroking it almost viciously, waiting to bring Noctis to the brink. Ardyn had only been an instrument too after all, a vessel, and Ardyn— 

Ardyn really didn’t enjoy the thought of being a _vessel_. 

Still, this act was already coming to an end. The stream of eggs was growing sluggish again, and now they came lazily in one or two, bouncing from the throne easily onto the floor, unharmed. Almost a day had passed and as the sky outside darkened, the only light illuminating them was those throbbing from the eggs. Everywhere they touched, they opened a chasm of seemingly endless darkness under them, until the white marble and red carpet of the throne room all turned to black. Each chasm was a portal, and Ardyn knew that at any moment each egg could have vanished into the Daemon realm on their own. But the Scourge – the wily, cunning Scourge – had chosen to keep them here, for now, on display for Noctis – if only to show him how completely it owned him. 

Even as he stood and watched, impassive with the conflicted feelings rising inside him, Ardyn still realized when Noctis’ whimpering changed. It sounded more urgent now, more desperate, and he made himself focus again. The last egg was peeking from Noctis’ hole, and yet it refused to come out – just stayed there where it spread Noctis’ hole obscenely wide, its glow easily seen through the thin skin and flesh at Noctis’ entrance. The Scourge tentacle jerked on Noctis’ cock once more, twice – and the egg finally popped out as Noctis screamed and twisted himself on the throne, his orgasm like a physical blow as it punched out of him and painted his skin in thick creamy streaks. 

Gorged and satisfied, the Scourge didn’t want to leave its incubator just yet. The tentacle that had toyed with Noctis’ cock all along now coiled around his length again, slowly and lazily stroking until it had milked him of every last drop and Noctis was sobbing for it to stop. Then it started to lap around his body, sucking up his cum. It even wound all the way up to his neck, lapping up the pinpricks of blood at Ardyn’s bitemarks, and it paused a little, looking to Ardyn almost accusingly at the taste of his saliva. It _knows_ , and Ardyn was half amused and half annoyed. He had half a mind to remind it from whence it had come – and the Scourge must have felt the edge of his fury, because it went scurrying back. Growing long and lithe as it slithered on the floor, it curved around the eggs like a great coiling snake, gathering its clutch up in its greedy hold. With a pulse of light, the portal closed and it all vanished – the eggs, the egg-laying Scourge, everything gone into the Daemon’s realm until Ardyn saw fit to call on them. 

It took Ardyn a moment to calm himself, at the turmoil brewing in his mind. In the dim light of the late afternoon, he let his gaze drift back to Noctis – at the pale body still sprawled on the throne with his legs open, sobbing and breathing with equal laboriousness. As it had been after the party, he looked clean – the Scourge having lapped up the proofs of his defilement – but now, his body was much more altered. His belly sagged in soft folds where it had once been firm and flat, his entrance gaping even if he was now for the first time truly empty. And worst of all, where there had still been a glimmer of defiance in his eyes, where there had been strength left for him to demand revenge on those who had hurt him, his eyes were now glassy and vacant. Even his crying was empty – almost half-hearted, like he was crying now only because he had been crying and hadn’t quite figured out how to stop. Compared to the gut-wrenching, heart-rending sounds of true anguish he’d made earlier, this simpering, mindless version seemed to grate on Ardyn’s mind. 

Ardyn _had_ known what holding the Scourge in him for so long would do to Noctis, of course. What he hadn’t expected was how _irritated_ it made him. 

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Almost tenderly, he leaned over, closing Noctis’ legs. It was no fun looking at him that exposed when the boy himself didn’t care anymore, wasn’t even aware. As he picked Noctis up, one of the boy’s arms folded to rest on his belly, the other dangled helplessly down the side of his body. Ardyn looked at the limp fingers and was reminded, with almost a jolt of loss, of how fiercely Noctis had clutched at his hair earlier. “Right,” he said, almost surprised at his own determination. “You, my dear, need some fixing. Lucky for you, I’ve got the right men for the job.”


End file.
